


Baby's First Christmas

by quilledcorsair



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Secret Santa, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quilledcorsair/pseuds/quilledcorsair
Summary: Hope Swan-Jones' first Christmas is full of people who love and adore her, mismatched socks and definitely no gingerbread.





	Baby's First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun with this CSSS gift for @fictional-redheads. I am not a fluff writer, so it's pretty evident that I struggled but I tried to make sure it was as cheer-y and Christmas-y as possible. I drew on some influences from Luke and Lorelei and tried to include a lot of what I think are your preferences! I hope you like this.
> 
> I always picture Emma and Killian as the opposite of lovey-dovey. They have their fun with each other, they tease each other and after all the drama that they had to get through? You bet your ass they are going to be silly and chilled out. And while I might not have any experience in long term relationships, I have seen MANY of my friends and family in one, and I can tell you - there's going to be some name calling. Even if it comes from a place of love. Let's be real, the closer we are to someone, the more often they get called 'asshole'.

To say Emma Swan-Jones is stressed would be putting it lightly. She is so far past stressed, she is currently sitting on her bedroom floor staring dazedly at the disaster of wrapping paper in front of her, a pair of scissors clutched loosely in her hand. She rubs tiredly at her eyes with the unoccupied hand, pushing her glasses up a little as she does so.

She has no idea how this got pushed for the last minute, but with a newborn in the house - well, a three month old in the house is still a newborn - it is hard to keep track of time. She had bought all the presents well in advance (Thank God for Amazon Prime!), had it all shipped to a P.O. box in Portland and simply had to pick it one afternoon before Hope was born, easy-peasy. See, Emma thought she was being smart, getting her gifts months in advance. She thought she could ace being a new parent, and still kick-ass at gift giving.

(Seriously, when did her life become  _ this _ ? When did they go from worrying about the next villain to trying to out-gift each other with thoughtful presents?)

But how  _ dare _ she try and tempt fate? Because the weeks slipped by and before she realised, it is two days before Christmas and she is still wrapping presents. And damn the combined realms, because she had even more people to buy gifts for, which meant even more presents to wrap than usual. 

Thankfully, she has just one more present to wrap, and she will be done. 

“Long night, love?” comes Killian’s teasing voice, startling her and making her drop her scissors.

“Jesus, Killian,” she chides. “What the hell?”

“Apologies, Swan. I thought you heard me close our bedroom door.” He kneels next to her, and she automatically leans into him, sighing deeply at the warmth that exudes from her husband.

“It’s all right,” she mumbles. “You’re always so warm and toasty.”

Killian snorts, muffling it in his wife’s hair. “I think someone’s had a little too much wine.”

“Hey, I had  _ one _ glass,” Emma grumbles, lifting her head off his shoulder and pushing away from him.

“Well, it  _ has _ been more than a year since you’ve had alcohol, love.” He grabs the last unwrapped gift from the pile, raising his brows at Emma. “Legos? Really, Swan?”

“Okay, first of all,  _ judgy _ , not all of us have centuries of pirate treasure to dig through and get a cool gift. And second of all, this is the Millennium Falcon, okay? Neal is going to go nuts for it, and I’m going to go back to being the best older sister.”

“You’re his  _ only _ older sister,” he points out. “If you think your Legos are going to be any match to my present, you have another thing coming, my darling wife.” He draws her back to him, her back against his chest, the Lego set forgotten at their feet.

Emma rolls her eyes. Ever since their first proper Christmas together, Killian has always tried to best everyone else at gift giving. And while everyone pretends that the only thing that matters is family and spending time together, and that all gifts mean the same because of the thought behind it - all that Snow White crap, everyone  _ still _ tries to knock it out of the park.

Three years ago, Killian won by giving everyone their own personalised mini pirate treasure chests, with maps and everything. That was also the year that Mary Margaret banned gold and treasure as gifts. She even tried to impose a handmade gifts only rule the following year, but that just led to a lot of meltdowns from the kids, and the parents scrambling to get them their favorite toys.

Emma shudders thinking back to Neal’s meltdown when he found out their dad didn’t get him the video game he was promised by Santa.

“It’s Hope’s first Christmas,” she whispers, unable to help the smile on her face. “I just want it to be perfect.”

Killian grins at her, sharing in her sentiment. “It will be, Swan. We are all finally together, the realms united. Hope will know only love and laughter, and she will be surrounded by family and friends.”

Emma’s eyes sting just thinking about everything her daughter will have that neither she nor Killian ever had the chance to have as children. She presses a soft kiss to the underside of Killian’s jaw, feeling his answering hum rumbling through his chest. “Babe?”

“Yes, love?”

“Could you finish wrapping my presents?”

Killian bursts out laughing, making Emma pout. “No, Swan. You’re by yourself. I told you to get it done two weeks ago.”

“But I’m your wife and you’re being so mean,” she says in a whine, throwing crumpled up wrapping paper at his head as he gets up and walks away.

“I’m checking on  _ your _ poopy daughter, Swan,” he calls out.

“She’s  _ our _ poopy daughter, moron!”

-/-

Christmas morning dawned bright and not-so-early at the Swan-Jones household. Hope woke up in the early hours of dawn and Emma had brought her to their bed, fed her, burped her and snuggled her back to sleep.

And now they are just admiring their sleeping daughter and talking in whispers. Nothing could possibly be more perfect than that.

“It’s been three months, and she’s still so tiny,” Emma whispers, her awe evident and her eyes never straying from Hope. Her hand was resting lightly on Hope’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of her tiny chest, and her little heart beating against her palm. 

“Aye. I can’t fathom how someone so small poops so much,” Killian says with just as much awe.

“Babe, you need to get over the poop thing,” Emma giggles, unable to control herself when she sees the look of mock-disgust on her husband’s face.

“She’s so adorable, Swan, I just want to kiss her and wake her up and play with her all the time.”

“Yeah, but don’t though. She needs her sleep. Today is going to be exhausting.”

He rolls his eyes, “Aye, I know.”

Emma remains quite for a moment, before she whispers again. “Do you remember how exhausted my mom and Zelena and Belle were when they had babies?”

“Are you surprised at how well behaved our child is?” he asks, reading her like an open book.

“Yeah.” Emma brushes the wisps of hair away from Hope’s forehead, smiling when the girl’s lips twist into something resembling a smile. “I thought it would be more challenging, that I would hardly get any sleep. But she’s so perfect - I mean, it is challenging. And she hardly sleeps, but I honestly don’t care. All I care about is how rarely this one cries, and I’d like to think that means we’re doing something right.”

“We are, Emma. We’re doing the best we can, and that seems to work for our lassie.” Killian smiles wide when Hope starts squirming, making soft whimpering noises indicating that she is about to wake up. “She’s so beautiful, I almost don’t mind the stinky diapers.”

And just as he says it, Emma’s nose scrunches up at a sudden awful smell. “Well, I hope you don’t mind her farts as well, because  _ oh, my God _ ,” Emma murmured, fanning in front of her nose. 

Killian laughs, nuzzling Hope’s cheek. “You’re just a poopy little babe, aye?” he whispers, picking up the whimpering child and pressing a quick kiss to Emma’s lips.

“Happy Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas,” Emma smiles. She leans over, pressing soft kisses to Hope’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, poopy baby. I love you,” she coos, watching with a wide grin as her husband walks to the nursery with their baby. She has never been happier, and for once, she lets herself feel it without being afraid of what comes next.

-/-

“Emma, come on, lass! We’re late!” Killian calls out. They were supposed to be at her parents’ farm by now for Christmas breakfast before they all load up and head off to Regina’s castle for gifts and dinner. By the looks of things, they are quite behind schedule. And if there is  _ one _ thing that Killian seems to struggle with as a parent to a newborn, it is going late to every event. For someone who’s spent centuries as a pirate captain, and as a Navy lieutenant before that, he is used to a certain level of punctuality and discipline. Which all went out the window when his daughter was born, and she turned out to be just as tardy as her mother.

Not that he would ever blame his precious angel for her tardiness; he just has to learn to be all right with being late.

“Swa-” he cut off mid sentence when he sees Emma emerge down the stairs, carrying Hope in her arms. He had had the forethought to take the diaper bag with him (Lord knows that this child needs it) because he can’t understand how his wife is able to navigate the stairs with a newborn, while wearing a dress and those heels.

(But those  _ heels _ , though. He recognises them from  _ that night _ roughly a year or so ago. She was wearing a skimpy little black thing and her hair was curled into perfect ringlets and she was wearing  _ those heels _ . God, she was trying to kill him.)

“You look stunning,” he says, stumbling over his words, his feet, in a rush to get to her. The baby in her arms is the only reason he doesn’t have her trapped against the bannister right now.

Her cheeks turns pink, like she knows what he’s thinking; she probably does, and she could probably spot the colour high on his own cheeks, and his ears feel hot - Thank God for the baby because otherwise, they would be leaving much later.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she murmurs, her hand grazing his bicep and squeezing lightly.

Hope gurgles, as if she notices that she is being left out of the conversation. He chuckles, directing his attention to his other girl. “Hello, my little love,” he coos in that baby voice he used to hate. “Aren’t you looking like a little princess?” He lifts her out of Emma’s arms, glad that he had opted to wear his prosthetic today. He blows raspberries on Hope’s tummy, making the three month old giggle in delight. “Aye, you like that?”

He looks up to find Emma with her phone out, filming his interaction with their daughter with a smirk on her face. “Wait till everyone sees this. There goes your reputation as the big bad pirate captain,” she teased, slipping the phone into one of the pockets of her dress.

Killian shakes his head, not in the least bit surprised. “Despicable, Swan. Truly despicable behaviour,” he says with a  _ tsk _ . “Is this what you want to teach our child? Blackmail?”

“Um, are you going to pretend you weren’t whispering to her about breaking and entering a room three nights ago?”

“That’s just common sense, love. Now, let’s load up and get going, shall we? We’ve kept your parents waiting long enough.” He rushes out the door, baby and all, leaving Emma standing in their entryway shaking her head at her husband’s ridiculousness. 

“You’re such a moron!” she calls out on a laugh, following after them, pausing to lock the door up tight.

-/-

Turns out Killian, Emma and Hope were actually early, as Snow and David were still getting Neal ready for the day, breakfast all but forgotten.

“Mom, you want me to take over?” Emma asks after she drops their bags and coats in the hall closet. 

Just then a naked five year old races through the room, giggling and not letting his father catching him. Emma found it really hard not to laugh as David chased Neal through the house, barely noticing his daughter and her family.

Snow is no better - she is clutching a carton of eggs, watching the events unfold as if she had walked in moments before the others, her eyes wide and mouth gaping.

“David! I told you to get Neal ready! Why is he running around naked?!”

David stops in his tracks, turning to Snow with his hands thrown up in the air, his hair disheveled. “What do you think I’m chasing him around for?” he snaps back.

Emma can feel the tension in the air, and figures that there was more brewing between her parents than they are letting on. But now is not the time - it’s Christmas! Hope’s first with her family,  even if the three-month old might not remember it.

“All right! How about I get the little rugrat dressed and you guys focus on just getting ready?” Emma offers, not waiting for a reply before she snatches the outfit from her father’s hand and starts marching toward the back of the farmhouse with purpose.

Killian stares at his in-laws for a moment before the tension got to be a little too much. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he looks at David. “Here, mate. Why don’t you take your granddaughter? I will assist milady with breakfast.”

If he is surprised by David’s lack of argument, he doesn’t show it. Killian hands off Hope, who was resting in her car seat, observing everyone silently like the little angel that she is, and steered a seething Snow White toward the kitchen.

He has assisted Snow in enough meals over the years to know where everything is in her kitchen and proceeds to begin making pancakes, bacon and eggs for the lot of them, while Snow sat glowering at the counter top, a cup of tea clutched in her hands.

After five minutes of awkward silence, Killian rolls his eyes. “What is going on with you and the Prince?” he asks, an undertone of concern in his voice.

“Nothing.” Snow White has  _ nothing _ to say? Shocker.

“Oh, come on, love. Obviously there is something going on. You and the Prince don’t fight about silly things.”

Snow blows out a long breath, her shoulders slumping. She absentmindedly stirs her tea. “It’s just been a bad couple of days. First, we realised that we forgot to get Neal the present he really wanted. We got him a bunch of other things - David got him a bike! - but turns out all Neal wanted was Legos. And then, yesterday they boys knocked over the gingerbread house I made while playing ball in the house - even though I’ve  _ told  _ them multiple times to keep it for the outside. I mean, David is a grown ass man. He needs to be a better example for Neal, right? He is just-” She cuts herself off, groaning in a completely un-Snow like fashion, burying her face in her arms resting on the counter top. “He’s just always the fun parent. I always need to play bad cop with Neal, I always need to reprimand him. And because of that, he keeps going to David for everything. I want him to be able to come to me too.”

Killian listens patiently, because he can’t really do much else. He can’t tell Snow or David how to be parents. He can’t say that things like presents and gingerbread don’t matter, because he’s come to learn that it does. “Sometimes, it’s the people you love the most, who annoy you the most,” he says instead, flipping the pancakes.

Snow lifts her face from her arms, raising her eyebrows at Killian. “Are you calling my daughter annoying?”

“Aye. And your husband, too. I found it hard to get used to Emma’s quirks as well, Snow. I can’t say I will ever get used to some things, but our marriage is more than those things. And if that’s the case with us, I  _ know _ that is how it is for you and Dave. So, yes, Emma is bloody annoying sometimes. But I love her for it. I let her parent how she wants, and I parent how I want - and it seems to work for us. We have found a balance. And so have you and David, love. If you feel like that isn’t working, just sit down and have a talk. But later - today is Christmas. And Emma might not say it, but this day means a lot more to her than usual. This is Hope’s first Christmas, and everyone is finally united and happy. Now, I  _ am _ sorry about the gingerbread house. Maybe you should just skip it?”

Snow gapes at him for a moment, blinking at his long speech. Killian and her have always had a sort of camaraderie, even if he has his own bromance with David. But this is the first time she has gone to him for advice - and he is not half bad.

“How can we skip the gingerbread house? It’s tradition!” she exclaims instead.

“No one even eats it, love. It just sits there. Also, Emma’s allergic to ginger.”

Snow blinks. “She is? I thought she just hates it.”

Killian nods, pulling the bacon from the oven and setting it on the countertop next to Snow. “She does hate it  _ because _ she’s allergic.”

“I didn’t even know my own daughter was allergic to ginger.”

“You do now.” Killian shrugs, looking properly at her now. “Not everything is a big deal, love. You might have missed out on 28 years of Emma’s life, but you don’t have to try and overcompensate for everything she missed. All she wants is to be with her family, the other stuff is fine, but she doesn’t need it, love. By the by, she’s allergic to pecans, as well.”

Snow smiles at her son-in-law. Impressed that in the time it took him to talk to her, he was done cooking the bacon and was halfway through the pancakes. “Here, let me handle the pancakes. Neal and David love your eggs.”

-/-

“Oh, wow. You guys really went all out for breakfast,” Emma comments when she walks into the dining area with Neal ‘s hand clutched in hers, leading him in front of her. 

Snow grins, turning to thank her. But her smile fades when she stares at Neal’s feet. “His socks are mismatched.” Snow’s eyes flit up to meet Emma’s.

“Yeah, that’s what dad had laid out,” Emma shrugs. “He’s going to be wearing shoes, mom. It doesn’t matter.”

Snow opens her mouth to protest, but Killian cuts her off. “It really doesn’t matter, love. I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out.” He shoots Snow a meaningful look, making her smile sheepishly at him. Emma raises her brows at Killian, but he simple shakes his head. A matter for another time.

David walks in just then, bouncing his whimpering granddaughter in his arms. “Looks like Hope’s hungry.” 

Emma is quick to take Hope, silently asking Killian to follow her, which he gratefully does. There is only so much of his in-laws he could handle. Besides, he has a feeling that Snow and David need a moment.

“So, what was that about?” Emma asks, once she has Hope settled against her chest, the infant suckling greedily at her mother’s breast.

“What’s that, love?” Killian asks, distracted by Hope reaching for his finger and holding it in her tiny hand.

“With my mom. What happened?”

“Just a silly fight between Dave and Snow. They just needed a moment away from each other, I think.”

Emma snorts, jostling the baby a little, murmuring apologies to an irritated Hope. “They got annoyed with each other, huh?” 

“Aye. Snow White and Prince Charming - they’re just like us. Who knew?” he jokes, pressing his lips to her covered shoulder.

“Makes me less annoying in comparison, doesn’t it?” 

“Well, you’ve never complained about mismatched socks.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He stares at her for a moment, biting his lip to keep from laughing in her face. “No, it is not.”

Emma scowls at him. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“Aw, love,” he laughs. He can’t stop himself when she looks so damn adorable. “I’m not trying to be mean. I love you, annoying habits and all. You won’t be the person you are without them, and I want you to be exactly who you are. I want our daughter to adopt all of her mother’s quirks. It will only make me love her more.”

Emma blinks, feeling tears at Killian’s dumb words. “You’re annoying, too.” She chuckles as soon a she says the words, even if she sounds a little teary. “That did not come off as romantic as I wanted it to.”

Killian presses his grin to her cheek, unable to control how happy he felt. This is what he lives for - these moments in his marriage mean just as much as the flowery words and grand declarations. This is what reality is like with his Swan, and he if he can live in this moment forever, he would.

“I know what you meant, Swan. I love you, too.” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Hope’s forehead. “And you as well, my little bean.”

-/-

It seems like the moment to themselves helped Snow and David, because when Emma and Killian join them, they are back to their usual selves. Emma and Killian exchange smug glances, bumping shoulders in solidarity.

“I just got off the phone with Regina. She told me that Henry, Ella and Lucy have reached already,” Snow informs them, packing her Christmas cookies in Tupperware boxes. 

Emma’s grin widened. While she wished that Henry would settle back with them in Storybrooke, he has his family to think about and they liked it in Hyperion Heights, and she is not one to begrudge her son of his happy ending. She just has to come to terms with the fact that Henry was all grown up and has a daughter. That she is a Grandma.

“I can’t wait to see them,” Emma whispers to Killian as they are all settling down for breakfast. 

Killian squeezes her hand, feeling just as excited as she does to see his step-son and his family.

-/-

“Are you guys certain you want to take dad’s truck? There’s enough space for all of us in Killian’s car,” Emma offers, after she has Hope and Neal settled in their car seats.

Snow nods, her arm wrapped around David’s waist. “You go ahead with Neal. I think David and I just need a breather, you know?”

Emma nods, smiling tightly, trying to tell herself that their Christmas is still fine. That her parents will join them before dinner. “You’ll be there by 6, right?” she asks, wanting the reassurance.

“Right before picture time, I promise,” David says with a grin.

Emma is still agitated when they are well on their way to Regina’s castle. “Why do they have to do this now?” The words burst out of her in a rush, startling Killian.

“Do what, love?”

“Have their drama, and their talk.” Her voice comes out whiney and on-edge. Every thing she did not want to feel this day.

Killian reaches for her hand, squeezing tightly. “They’ll be there, Emma. It isn’t  a big deal, darling.” But she simply hums in response and hopes that he is right.

-/-

Regina’s castle is extravagantly decorated for the holidays - it is ridiculous how many wreaths Emma finds in just the foyer. There’s candles everywhere, giving the whole castle a soft glow as the sun slowly fades away. Hope is awake and alert, and both her and Neal gaze up at the bright lights and shining decorations with awe.

“This is so cool!” Neal exclaims, itching to tug away from Emma’s grip on his hand, but he is still unfamiliar with the layout of the castle, and she doesn’t want him to get lost.

“It is, isn’t it?” she echoes instead, smiling when he jumps in place. “Slow down there, bud.”

“Is Lucy here?” 

“Aye, lad.”

“Emma! Lucy is here! We need to go faster, c’monnnn!” he yells, making him glare at Killian.

But Killian’s eyes haven’t drifted away from Hope’s expression. The baby was cooing up at the lights, her small arms reaching out through the blanket she was swaddled in and making grabby fists. The sight makes Emma’s heart melt just a little, but Neal’s incessant tugging makes her walk a little faster to keep up with him and make sure he doesn’t fall.

Thankfully, they reach the courtyard where everyone is gathering easily enough. Neal drops her hand the moment he spots Lucy, calling her name out in a loud and shrill voice.

“Lucy!”

“Neal!” The two children rush at each other, the older girl hugging the younger boy tight, both of them jumping in place. Emma is certain Neal is hopped on the candy canes their dad let him have.

“Mom!” Henry calls out, drawing her attention from the younger children, to her much older child.

“Hey, kid!” She hugs him tight when he’s within reach. “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” she sighs, holding him to her, like he was still a little kid. Thankfully, he lets her, knowing first hand how precious it is.

Killian is the next one to greet him, when Emma deems herself ready to let go of him and take Hope from Killian.

“Glad you’re home, lad. It’s been a while,” Killian says in greeting, patting Henry on the back as they do that semi-hug that men tend to do.

“Likewise, Pirate.” They walk away, talking about Henry’s new book. Emma stands at the entryway, Hope gurgling in her arms, her hand gripping Emma’s hair and tugging a little. She looks around the room, at all the people who are gathered, and thinking about all the people who will soon be here. Her heart feels fit to burst, and she has to take in a shuddering breath at the happiness and peace she feels.

It has been a struggle to get here. It was such a scary time, being pregnant with Hope while her other kid was away having his own adventures. She was so scared that something would go wrong, especially when she was forced to be on bedrest the last month of her pregnancy. But it all worked out, and here they are - every one is safe, happy and most importantly, together.

-/-

Thankfully, her parents join them soon after, holding hands and all smiles. Emma does not want to think about what they did to have such satisfied looks on their faces. Emma, Regina and Zelena entertain the children with their magic for a while, before they all start exchanging gifts. Hope received an innumerable number of clothes and toys from everyone - Granny gives Hope and Henry matching beanies, which is enough to make Emma let go of the slight control she has over her tears.

Gideon joins them much later in the evening, surprising everyone. For an appalling moment, Emma thinks that he is here to fight her again. But his eyes are red around the edges and he looks disheveled, and Emma hates herself for that thought - that young man doesn’t have either his father or his mother during the holidays. She moves to reach out to him, but Killian is already on his feet, marching over to his Godson and enveloping him in a hug, murmuring too low for anyone else to hear. 

Regina distracts everyone from their private moment by directing them toward the dining room, the kids running ahead with their gifts clutched in their arms. Neal staggers back, running to Emma instead.

“Hey, bud.” 

 

“Thank you for my Legos, Emma!” He throws his arms around her neck, mindful of the baby in her arms. “This is my favorite!”

“Aw, you’re welcome, buddy. Hope helped me pick it out,” Emma says, watching with delight as Neal bends down to kiss Hope’s cheek, and murmures softly, “Thanks, Hopey,” and runs off, his Millennium Falcon Lego set still in his arms.

Emma can’t help herself - she smiles down at the precious bundle in her arms, nuzzling her nose against Hope’s, and laughs when the little girl scrunches her nose adorably. “You’re the cutest, Hope Swan-Jones,” Emma whispers.

Hope looks up at Emma when she hears her name, as if she recognises it. And she smiles.

Or so Emma thinks, until a foul stench reaches her nose. “Uh-oh. Hope, you dirty little girl. That was nasty,” Emma complains.

“She pooped again, didn’t she?” Killian asks from behind her, making her yelp.

“Okay, you need to stop sneaking up on me!” Emma leans into Killian when he wraps his arms around her and Hope. “How’s Gideon doing?” 

“As well as can be. The lad is not in a good place right now, but he’s around family.”

“Yeah, he is,” Emma sighs. “This is turning out to be a good Christmas, huh?”

“Aye, love. One of the best.”

“I love my present,” she says, touching the necklace he had given her.

“I’m glad,” he hums, breathing her in. “I have another present for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Aye. I’ll change Hope’s poopy diaper right now.”

Emma turns in his arms, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, that really is the best gift ever,” she grins, letting him take Hope and making sure the baby is settled before handing him her diaper bag. “Maybe after dinner, you have another gift to unwrap.” Emma winks at him.

Killian waggles his eyebrows, biting his lip salaciously. “Oh, I look forward to that, Mrs. Jones.” He draws her close before she can walk away, brushing his lips lightly against hers, before pressing a soft kiss to Hope’s crown. “Merry Christmas, my darlings.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

And Hope farts again, making both parents half-groan, half-laugh in unison.  _ This really is the perfect Christmas _ , Emma thinks, watching as her husband carries their daughter away, talking animatedly to the infant.

Oh, and Granny won gift giving this year. Everyone loved their personalised scarves, but Emma was happy that Neal loved her presents more. She was also happy that there were no gingerbread houses this year; she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend to not be allergic.


End file.
